


Broken Arrow

by Enide_Dear



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, haldir is a little shit here, sorry but someone had to take the role of bad elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-01-24 01:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: Legolas finds a dwarf, a creature thought to be extinct, being sold as a slave in the market of Edoras and can't leave well enough alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [2000GigolasFics](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2000GigolasFics) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> AU, where dwarves have become creatures of muth and legends in Middle Earth, until one day one is being sold as a slave on a market in Edoras. As chance would have it, it is just that day the Prince of Mirkwood is visiting to conduct business

The market at Edoras was full of noises, from animals and Men alike, a cacophony of sound that hurt his ears and drilled into his head like no noise from hammer or anvil ever had. The smells were even worse for someone used to the cold, clean scent of stone and minerals- unwashed bodies and animals again. 

Gimli assumed the sight would be as bad - people everywhere, animals aplenty - but he didn’t know. He hadn’t found the will to look up since he was first brought here with a chain of inferior making around his neck and another around his wrists and ankles. Inferior, yet sturdy enough to keep him from breaking free. His hands were raw from three days of tearing uselessly at them. 

Sun shone down on his shoulders and back, stinging almost as bad on naked skin as the bruises and lashes there. Occasionally his captors had grown annoyed with his attempts to escape. 

What little shred of pride and the great simmering fountain of anger he had left was all that kept him from flinching when the Man holding his chain raised his voice and spoke in Westron to what Gimli must assume was a crowd of Men before the daise they were standing on. 

“See here! before your very eyes I bring you a creature of legend and myth! One of the Mountain Folk, who the tales say have stores of wealth and the ability to make gold out of hay! And do we not have hay aplenty, my fellow Horse Masters?”

That brought on laughter, but one woman shouted:

“T’is but a short, bearded man you have there! I have one of those at home in my bed already, eating my bread and making a nuisance of himself!”

More laughter. Gimli heard it all as if it came from far far away, like the roar of a waterfall. He felt naked and exposed; it was not the way of his people to wear nothing but breeches out in the open. 

It was not the way of his people to be seen by Men anymore either, nor to be captured by them. 

“This is no Man, I swear it!” His captor caught a handful of hair by the scruff of his neck and yanked his head back, forcing him to face the crowd. There were more of them than he’d expected and now they all gawked and stared at his face - not a Man’s face at all, but one of much more sturdy built than their weak chins and vulnerable noses that couldn’t distinguish between so much as limestone and granite. 

“200 gold, what say you?” The captor shouted. “Strong and capable it is - look at those shoulders! Look at those craftman’s hands! It would do well as much as masonry as blacksmith! And what of the tales, hm? What of the gold it might spin you with its own hands?”

“I’ll take it!” Someone shouted. Gimli didn’t even bother to look; he had no interest in who would think to own him.

“No, me! 250 gold!”

“300!”

“What is going on here?” A new voice cut through the din, a voice that was no more dwarven than the Mens, but not dwarvish either. Even the Men must have heard the difference, for they turned as one and despite his despair, a glimmer of curiosity made Gimli look as well. 

 

A cadre of horses had stopped just outside the throng of people, but none of the riders were Men and Gimli’s heart started beating wildly with panic. No, not Men. Men were bad enough, but this was much, much worse. Forcing himself to remain steady, he looked across the sea of humans straight into the face of one of the dwarves most ancient enemies. 

The Elf at the front stared back from his high perch on the horse, his eyes blue and piercing under golden hair held back by a white tiara on his forehead - a tiara of strange but fair quality, Gimli’s dwarven senses couldn’t stop from noticing. He wore clothes of silver and grey and looked well rested, clean and free- all things Gimli were not. The cadre behind him must be his guard and advisors for they were similarly dressed well, with fine cloth and fine horses, but no tiaras. They were all russet haired and longer eared than the first one - with one exception. An elf with a haughty expression and even paler, almost white hair, who was dressed in a different manner than they others and who kept close to the Elf at the head.   
Gimli noticed all this in a few blinks of an eye, and then the Elf at the front sat off and moved towards the dais, towards him and his captor. The Men all moved aside hurriedly to let him pass.

“Prince Legolas!” The moonlight haired elf shouted, but was ignored. 

“What is going on here?” The presumed elven Prince repeated. “Slavery is forbidden in all Free Lands. It’s a thing of Mordor.” He looked at Gimli’s captor as he spoke, but his eyes kept straying to Gimli who didn’t dare take his eyes off him. 

“Aye, but this is no Man or Elf or Hobbit I am selling.” His captor protested. “This is a mere creature, like selling a horse or a hound!”

“The Horse Lords i know would treat any horse better than you have done this poor prisoner.” The prince stopped by the daise. He was tall, but he still had to look up at them from that position. From the corner of his eye, Gimli saw the paler elf hurry towards him. “And whatever Folk he belongs to, he is clearly of a sentient folk.”

“The law says no Men, Elf or Hobbit may be sold.” the captor insisted stubbornly. “And this is clearly none of those!” 

“Prince Legolas, this is none of our concern.” The pale elf had walked up to him, barely sparing a glance for either Man nor captive and when he did he showed nothing but contempt. Contempt, Gimli thought, for both of them but for him a touch of...unease? “This is not our lands, nor our laws to uphold. Our business here is done and your father would want you home as soon as can be. He most certainly would not want you wasting Mirkwoods last hard earned coin on something like that.” He grabbed the Prince’s shoulder as if to lead him away, but the Prince stood rock still, frowning. Even Gimli felt the awkwardness, the pale elf had all but called the other a pauper Prince.

“You are right, Haldir. I have no say here, and no money.” The prince shook of his hand and reached up, removing his tiara. “I will still not leave him here.”

Gimli saw it all as if in a nightmare. Whatever could happen to him here, amongst Men, would be nothing compared to the hands of these elves. But he could do nothing to stop it.   
“Here. Take this, and give me his bonds.” The prince held up the tiara and the baffled Man took it and almost threw the chain back. Gimli supposed he couldn’t fault the Man’s sense of business; that thing was worth ten times what he had asked before but that was no relief for him; he was forced down the dais to the Prince who gingerly held his chain, passed the now slack-jawed Haldir and over to the horses. 

 

The horse snickerd and snorted but the Prince said some words to it, and it calmed down.   
“This is Arod, my new friend. He will carry us both. I am sorry for your bonds, but we will have to cut them once we’re out of Edoras.” He added some words for the rest of the staring russet elves, and then quickly sat up. With more strength than Gimli would even had expected from those slim arms, he pulled Gimli up behind him on the horse.   
The last thing Gimli saw was Haldir hurrying for his own steed. 

 

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

It was a strange procession that left Edoras shortly after noon; seven russet woodelves on Rohan horses with a pale marchwarden riding ahead of them, almost next to the golden haired prince in the front. And strangest of all was the creature riding behind the prince. A dwarf, a creature thought long extinct, heavily chained and bruised. It was no small wonder the Men of Edoras stood staring at their walls after them until they had moved too far away to be more than specks to mortal eyes.

Gimli had had enough of Men and their gaze. He had barely been seated on the horse before he leaned his forehead against the slim back in front of him, letting his unbound hair fall down to cover his face. He felt the Prince's back stiffen when he bumped against it, but the Elf didn't say anything and Gimli was beyond caring. With the Men he would have been a slave, but perhaps a slave with some sliver of hope to one day escape. With the elves, he didn't even have the hope of a quick death.

The woodelves talked and occasionally sang but the prince and the marchwarden at his heel said nothing until night fell and the stars came up and it became time to set up camp. Gimli was helped down from the horse and the prince led him to a dry patch of land and started investigating his chains. Gimli's skin seemed to crawl at the touch of cool long fingers on his neck, occasionally brushing by a bruise or stripe from a lash but he refused to say anything. Still, he'd rather feel the touch of a Man's boot again than these long fingers.

Finally, the prince sighed.

"I cannot remove these without tools, and we have few enough of those here. Still, we will try." He leaned forward to look Gimli in the eye. "Do you understand me? We will try to help you."

Gimli refused to answer. Perhaps if he pretended not to understand Westron he might learn something that could help him escape.

The prince repeated the question, now in a language Gimli truly didn't understand. And then another. Finally he stood up, frowning at the dwarf.

"Is he giving you trouble already, Prince Legolas?" Damn these elves could walk softly! Gimli jolted as Haldir appeared in the dark. The marchwarden didn't seem suprised at Gimli's defiance. If anything, he seemed to be gloating the Prince's failure.

"He seems to speak no language I know. Could you try Quenya?" The prince ignored the jibe.

"It would be a waste of time. Even in those times when his people were living side by side with other free folk, they never learned the finer languages. Better you take some food and enjoy the company of others of your kind...."

"I asked for your help, Haldir. Must I order it?" there were suddenly a hint of steel in the Prince's voice and Gimli looked up. He hadn't thought this little slip of a princeling had anything like that in him.

Haldir to looked taken back and an ugly blush coloured his cheekbones. He spat a few phrases at Gimli in a tone he wouldn't have answered even if he had understood them.

The Prince nodded, not really suprised, and quickly went to rumage through a saddle bag and leaving Haldir to glare at Gimli as if it had been his fault. Gimli ignored him. It was the Prince he needed to worry about, the Prince who now returned with his hands full of tools. Pincers, tweezers, a hammer....Gimli's heart beat faster as panic siezed him. What would the Elf do? He tried to gather his courage but as those infernal devices came closer he couldn't control himself.

With a roar he got to his feet, faster than the elves had counted on, pushed Haldir aside with a broad shoulder and ran for his life for the darkness of the surrounding hills.

He had forgotten the chains around his feet.

Not two steps and he fell over, unable to even fend for himself with his chained hands. The elves shouted, angry and bewildered and one of those surprisingly strong longer fingered hands grabbed his shoulder and tore him back on his feet. He came eye to eye with the rage in Haldir's eyes and then a fist landed on his jaw, knocking him down again.

"Haldir! Cease this at once!" Haldir was pulled back by the Prince, equally enraged.

"He attacked me!" The marchwarden spat out a long harangue of words Gimli didn't know but could easily guess.

"He is chained and bound! your actions bring shame to us all!" the Prince crouched down and Gimli tried to scuttle away from the tools of torture in his hands. "No, no! Please do not fear. I mean you no harm."

An elf's word were all lies. Gimli didn't trust them.

Instead of following him in his frantic scuffle, the Prince sat back on his haunches. As if approaching a wounded animal, he reached out an empty hand, palm up. The other, he pointed at himself.

"Legolas."

"*Prince* Legolas," Haldir muttered and received an irritated glance.

"Legolas." The Prince pointed to himself again. Well, he couldn't really pretend not to understand that. He could lie, of course, but he wouldn't lower himself to their level. His name would mean nothing to them anyway.

"Gimli," he gruffed and was surprised at the delight that lit the Prince's face. Suddenly he looked less a torturer and more...something else.

"Gimli," the name rolled oddly but not unpleasantly over the Prince's tongue. Very, very slowly he reached out to Gimli's neck, tapping a finger on the heavy iron chain there. then he tapped on the pincers.

Did he really think Gimli would believe that? then again, what choice did he have? Slowly he sat up, and the Prince waited patiently until he had his breathing under control. Not until Gimli nodded did he move forward.

The hands were cool when they sweapt aside his long red hair and he felt more than saw the Prince pause for a few heartbeats when he saw the elaborate tatoos covering his shoulders, back and biceps. Then he felt the pincers bite into iron and gritted his teeth. The pincers were small, more suited for pulling of horse shoe nails, but then again the chain was inferior quality to. They might work. And at least it wasn't his fingers, toes or worse caught in their bite.

It took a lot of work, but the chain finally snapped and Gimli drew what felt like the first proper breath in days. The Prince immediately sat to work on the chain around his hands.

"Your father will be less than pleased when he finds out you gave away a gift from Lothlorien in exchange for this creature," Haldir muttered, watching him work. From his position, Gimli could clearly see the way the marchwarden's gaze lingered on the Prince's working shoulders and back and he didn't like it one bit.

"My father would have been less pleased if he'd found out I left my honour in Edoras," the Prince retorted and Gimli had to hold back a snort of amusement. Whatever game this Haldir was playing, it was obvious the Prince would have none of it. Good for him. So far these elves - their Prince at least - had turned out to be quite different from what he'd heard in tales going up but he still didn't trust them. They wanted something - all Folks always wanted things from the dwarves - but whatever it was it didn't seem to be his pain or screams.

He decided to take a risk. When the chains around his wrists fell, he cleared his throat and held out a hand.

"Give them here, lad. I'll free myself."

"He can talk!" Haldir would have sounded less surprised if the horses had addressed him, Gimli was sure.

"Ay, when there's something important to be said." He glowered back and was pleasantly surprised when the prince let out a pearly laugh.

"Well then, Master Gimli! Free your own bonds." He handed over the pincers. They had gone blunt and full of nicks; the least he owned them was to replace them with a better pair if he ever got a chance.

Both elves stared at him as he made much shorter work with the chains around his ankles then what the Prince had managed. He felt a surge of pride at the way the blue eyes kept straying back to his naked shoulder as he worked.

Finally free, he put down the tool and stomped his feet to get feeling back to them, then took a deep breath and stretched muscles sore from days of being chained. The elves watched him, kindly amused and close to affronted by his mere existance.

"Now you are free, and free to go where you chose. But if you want we have some food and drink for you to share before you leave us." the Prince cocked his head to the side like a bird and imediatelly all of Gimli's midgivings came back. Elves were magic. Dine with them, dance with them....you might think you were gone for a night but you returned hundreds of years later.

Possibly they sensed his unease for Haldir rolled his eyes.

"You show some wisdom in fearing elven magic, but this is only a cadre for wood elves. They have no magic for the enemy to fear, and barely enough to protect their land." Gimli got the feeling the words were said less to assuage his fears and more to be a barb at the Prince, who shrugged.

"It's true we have little magic these days, but at least we have manners. Will you dine with us?" he held out a hand, the same hand that had traded the tiara for his freedom and worked to free him from his bonds.

Gimli took it.


	3. Chapter 3

The woodelves had worked to prepare food and lodgings while their Prince was occupied and now a fire burned merrily and the enticing scent of food wafed out. Most of the elves had exchanged their finery for clothes more suitable for travel and all of them were armed with swords or bows. Gimli was both worried and relieved to see at least three of them pacing the perimeter as guards. He was still not convinced they would let him go if he wanted to.

"Here. My people have done their best but we have neither the tools nor the time for better tailoring." The Prince - no, Legolas, he was allowed to call him that - handed over a brown shirt, hastily sewn up at the hem and opened as much as possible over the shoulders. It did not fit well, but he felt better for it and better still when someone handed him a handful of leather strings so he could finally plait his hair decently. He felt more like a proper dwarf than he had in days, although his hands itched for an axe.

"Give me a moment." Legolas started to untie his own silvery tunic, folding it carefully and Gimli turned around quickly and embarrassed at the sight of a very smooth, very strong looking chest. He should have been less caught of guard than he was to find Haldir waiting there. There was a strange glow of ownership in the marchwarden's eyes as they lingered on the Prince that made Gimli frown. In the short while he'd been here, he'd seen nothing of warmer feelings between the two. A protective streak made him plant his feet and cross his arms, glowering up at the pale elf.

"Your Prince asked for privacy while he changes," he pointed out. Haldir gave no inclination of having heard him.

"It pains me to see you discard your finery so quickly, prince Legolas." Haldir shook his head. "It's a shame Mirkwood does not have the resources to keep its royalty clad anymore. In Lothlorien we treat our nobles different; we would see you clad in the finest silk at all times."

"And would that not be a dull way of living?" Legolas chuckled as he put his hand on Gimli's shoulder. Clad now in common grey and brown he looked more relaxed and at ease and somehow more beautiful although the lack of the tiara bothered Gimli. This was a prince after all, and he had given it up for Gimli's sake. Perhaps he could make him a better one when he returned home; his father could barely begrudging him a replacement for the jewelry that had saved his son from slavery. Perhaps with an emerald, or sapphire like his eyes.....He caught himself staring at the Elf's brow and quickly looked aside. The glamour of elves. As dangerous to fall under as any torture.  
The prince was dangerous in more practical senses as well. Now they were out of range of Edoras protection he carried weapons, a bow and quiver put aside and a long dagger at his hip. Good. They were no fools then. Not like he'd been when he travelled here alone.

"Come Gimli. Let's eat." The cool hand no longer made his skin crawl and he eagerly followed Legolas to the fire.

He was surprised to see that he'd been placed at the right side of the Prince, surprised but pleased. Haldir, on Legolas other side, looked less delighted. The food was different from what he was used to, but he was starving and ate everything put in front of him. The wine was strong though.

"I suppose I never formally thanked you, prince Legolas," he finally admitted. "For freeing me." He got to his feet, a bit unsteady, and bowed. "Gimli, son of Gloín. At your service."

"Legolas Thranduilion. But please just call me Legolas." The elf smiled back.

"We would never allow such familiarity in Lothlorien," Haldir, on the other side of Legolas, frowned.

"Gimli is neither my subject, nor under my command for this journey like you Haldir." Legolas said quietly. "He is my guest."

"A guest who should know when it is time to leave."

Legolas frowned but nodded.

"Haldir is right, though he is blunt about it. You are free to leave whenever you wish although i would advise you to stay the night. We will leave in the early morning, but we will leave such food and drink as we can spare for you. Do you know how to find your way back to your own lands from here?"

Gimli sat quiet for a while, thinking on how to answer without revealing too much information.

"My lands are far from here," he said finally. "And I am a stranger who has already stumbled into the wrong hands once. With no weapon and no steed I fear I would soon end up in the hands of Men once more. May I ask where you travelling?"

"Back to our homeland, Eryn Lasgalen. Although Haldir will leave us when we come close to Lothlorien."

"Eryn Lasgalen!" Gimli straightened up. "That is....but I thought you said Mirkwood," he ended lamely.

"Eryn Lasgalen is our name for it, although strangers may use Mirkwood. Why? Do you know of it?"

Gimli chewed his beard and thought hard. He did indeed know of Eryn Lasgalen, from tales not quite that old. It was one of the last lands that his people had had dealings with, before retreating back into their mountains to slowly be forgotten by Men and Elves both. There had been trade between the two and if not friendship then at least mutual understanding. And importantly, it was fairly close to the Lonely Mountain.

It was a dangerous choice; he could go alone, on foot and weaponless and perhaps never make it back to his people. Or he could beg more help from these strangers and perhaps lead them far too close to his home.  
Or maybe there was a third way.

"I have no claim on you or your people; indeed I already owe you my freedom and more. But it seems our roads go side by side for quite some time. If you would, I would travel with you and when I reach home I will repay all my debts to you, on my honour."

"So this is the greed of dwarves that the old tales speak of," Haldir scoffed. "You go your way and we will go ours and you already owe us!"

"I will not accept payment for helping someone in need," Legolas interrupted. "Of course you are welcome to travel will us as far as you wish." He smiled. "I would be delighted in your company."


	4. Chapter 4

It was bloody impossible to know where to put his hands.

Once more seated behind the Elf on his tall horse, Gimli found himself in quite a predicament. Yesterday he'd been bound and the elves had ridden slowly so he wouldn't fall off, but now they were quickening their pace and he had no choice but to hold on or bounce around like a sack of flour. But where? On strong thighs or slim waist or wide shoulders...? His hands felt big and coarse and very clumsy as he finally settled for grabbing hold on the Elf's belt, the least awkward place he could find. Arod's gait was smooth but he had never ridden such a large creature before.

"You are as long way from your home as I am, almost." Gimli said after a while. "What brings elves so far south? If I may ask."

"It's no secret; you are sitting on the reason." Legolas leaned forward to pat the horse's neck. "We were in need of horses to better cover distances and hopeful open up more trade routes. We are woeful dependent on the Men in Laketown for provisions these days. With horses, we might expand our reach."

"To Lothlorien, for example. With your own kin you can be certain of fair trade." Haldir had ridden up to them.

"There are many markets." Legolas said non comittingly and once more Gimli wondered what was really going on between them. At first he'd thought Haldir outright rude to the prince, but that was not it. Haldir never insulted Legolas, just the poverty of his home while bragging on the wealth of Lothlorien. As if trying to entice him there. If he was, then he really did not understand the wood elf prince, Gimli thought to himself. Legolas didn't strike him as the kind to abandon his people to live in lazy luxury elsewhere. Although he couldnt really fault the elf for trying; the prince was honourable beyond what Gimli had ever expected of anyone not a dwarf and as fair as newly found vein of gold.

"And what of you, dwarf, what were you doing here?" For the first time Haldir addressed him.

"Sometimes treasures that were lost to the world return," Legolas mumbled. "Let's not question a member of a Folk that clearly want to remain secret."

"I thank you, but my own reasons for being here are no secret." Gimli sighed. "I simply got tired of the lands I grew up in and wished to see the world, even if I had to do so in secrecy. My father thought it was a foolish idea." He added sourly.

"Father's will think that of any idea that brings their precious children out of their sight." Legolas smiled. "My father agreed to let me lead this expedition only because he hoped it would curb my curiosity of the world outside his lands."

"And because he hoped you might make new friends." Haldir added with a strange kind of smile that Gimli did not like.

"Well, if this is to be our first and perhaps only adventure in the outside world, let's make it a real adventure. Forward, Arod!" And with as little warning as that Legolas urged the eager horse into gallop, causing Gimli to clamber on to his waist for dear life while Haldir shouted and the wood elves laughed at their prince's sudden fey mood.

The gallop was neck breaking, leaving the others far behind but after the first surprise Gimli found himself laughing along with Legolas as Arod sped them across field and finally into a small grove of the trees. There they stopped to let Arod catch his breath and graze the fresh grass while his riders stretch their legs.

It was amusing to see the way Legolas casually touched every tree they passed without thinking of it, much like Gimli knew he did to the walls of caves and mines. For a while they just enjoyed the sensation of being alone.

"Your father....would he be King Thranduil, then?" Gimli asked as they found a shady spot to sit down.

Legolas gave him a quick glance as he started to get out bread and fruit from the saddlebags.

"You seem knowledgeable of my homeland? Have you travelled there in secrecy as well?"

"No, and I doubt I could, seeing as how I couldn't even avoid being caught by Men. But Elves live for a long time, and few things change in your lands. We have tales of Eryn Lasgalen and its King. There were connections between your lands and ours, once."

"Many things have changed in Eryn Lasgalen since your Folk disappeared," Legolas sighed. "And few to the better. As Haldir insists on reminding me, we are besieged by enemies and have few allies and little resources with which to fight it. Most go to the army and the protection of our people. So people call it Mirkwood these days."

"Is that what he wants, then? To forge an alliance between your people and his?" Gimli frowned, still trying to understand and accepted a bottle of water.

Legolas gave him a hooded glance.

"Yes. By marrying me."

Gimli choked on the water.

"Marrying you?! But he is a - !" The next word that came out was in khudzul, but it was obvious from Legolas crooked smile that he understood the point of it.

"He wants to take me a way to Lothlorien, keep me locked up in some talan surrounded by all kinds of magic and precious objects and in every way treat me like a spoiled princeling. Like a pearl protected within a shell. " Legolas ate a piece of bread, his gaze far away. "In exchange, he gets a title and influence in my father's council. And we might get some assistance along our borders, although I doubt it. Lothlorien has its own borders to look to these days."

"And....and what do you think of such proposal?" Safety, comforts and the hope of aid for his people. It was a tempting bait for many.

"I want to travel the world. I want to feel the sun on my face and feel the world turn, not be locked away in timelessness. My father says it is because I'm still young, barely a century passed my coming of age."

"Aye, my father says the same of me." Despite himself, Gimli felt relief. He didn't like Haldir, and he was glad to hear Legolas opinions of him were similar. "Although it's barely a decade passed for me. 'You will find comfort in the familiarity of your home, Gimli. You will relax into the routines of every day meeting the same people, the same stones, the same everything. The world outside is nothing for us anymore.' And so on and so on until i thought my ears would fall off."

Legolas laughed, and Gimli guffaw.

"And your running in with the slavers haven't changed your love for the world?" Legolas asked and Gimli shrugged.

"I never said the world wasn't dangerous. But there is much beauty and friendship to be found in it to." he looked up almost shyly to the elf.

"There is." Legolas smiled back, slightly unsteady. "Better to die free than to live in a cage, hm?"

"Nah, better to live free, live long and good! And perhaps my folly was not wanting to see the world but trying to do so alone."

"Company is safer," Legolas nodded. "And the company of friends may turn hardship into adventure."

Was he saying what Gimli hoped he was saying? A strange kind of quiver went up Gimli's spine, but somehow didn't move away. He put his hand to the ground, felt it quiver faintly.

"I think your people are catching up with us. The ground speaks of horses approaching:" he said reluctantly.

He was not prepared for the reaction this caused in the elf; in one threatening motion he came to his feet, as agile as a hunting cat, and his bow was in his hands almost as fast.

"I told my people to leave us be; whoever is approaching are strangers."


	5. Chapter 5

Gimli's hand had closed around the white dagger the prince had pressed at him; it felt small and ridiculously light in his hand for all that the blade was almost a foot long and the edge as keen as sunlight. He wished desperately for his axe, for any axe, but at least he wasn't unarmed. And whoever was approaching were closing in fast. At best, it was Men and it was impossible to say how they would react to finding a single elf and dwarf in their lands. He'd already been their prisoner once; his heart raged at repeating the experience and even more if he had to share it with Legolas.

But the alternative was orchs, and that might mean the death of both of them.

Next to him Legolas was standing so still he almost seemed to blend in with the trees around him. He had his bow at hand, an arrow knocked but not yet drawn.

Gimli's head churned with conflicting emotions; he knew where he was or rather, what this place was. He knew why there were trees growing here, on a hillock, when there were no other trees around for miles. If he had been alone, he could have been safely hidden away in minutes. Not that he relished running away from an enemy but his people had generations of experience of hiding.

The ground shook under him and he exchanged a desperate glance with Legolas; whatever was approaching was not horses. Something was running so hard it felt like they wanted to crush the very earth beneath them.

"I can see them now." Legolas almost whispered. "At least fifty. They look like orchs but...bigger. Much bigger. With a strange white hand mark on their armour."

"Orchs don't run in sunlight. Do they have our track?"

Legolas nodded and drew his bow. His lips where pressed so taut they were almost white. Even if he somehow managed to kill one with every arrow in his quiver there would be more than twenty left and he would be unarmed, having given his dagger to Gimli. Unarmed in the onslaught of twenty orchs. It didn't bear thinking of.

And now Gimli saw them to; much much bigger than normal orchs, much better armed and untroubled by the sun. They were heading straight towards the hillock.

He made his decision.

"Come!" grabbing the elf's arm, he pulled him off balance.

"What? We can't outrun them! Arod's already fled!" Legolas protested but followed as Gimli led him along, down the west side of the hill.

"We are not fleeing, we are hiding. Please. Trust me!" Gimlli begged as he dragged the elf along. he could hear the orchs now, and a black arrow came whistling between them. Legolas almost turned to shoot back but Gimli's grip on his arm was relentless. He felt the elf stumble as they rushed down the hill side and then he tore away patches of moss on the old standing stones, found the secret signs he'd been looking for, put his hands on the cold stone and shouted out the secret word.

Legolas all but fell backwards when the secret door opened into the belly of the hill, but Gimli dragged him bodily inside and shut the door behind them.

 

It wasn't dark inside. Sunlight was lead down from outside in secret tunnels of quartz, making a soft dim light. This hideout hadn't been used for hundreds of years but it had been well made; the floor was smooth except where dirt had fallen down, the walls sturdy and the ceiling high, making it airy and comfortable. There would be storage areas further in, with food that might not have perished yet, firewood that most certainly had turned into mulch by now and fresh water. A hearth, if the need for fire was absolutely necessary, and blankets. They wouldn't need any of that though. Just to follow the underground tunnel to where it emerged in another place, far from here. Dwarven hideouts, like badger burrows, had many exits.

And there would be gold here. Gold and some smaller stacks of jewels because it was not just a hideout but also a place to hide treasures. He would probably be executed for showing this to an elf, to rekindle their greed for his people's treasures and wealth.....

"Gimli?" Legolas' voice sounded strangely hoarse. Gimli turned around and saw that he'd sunken to the floor, clutching his leg. A black arrow protrude from the calf.

 

Elven blood was just as red as dwarven. Gimli noted it in a dizzy haze as he examined the wound. The arrow had gone straight through the muscle and it bled in a spreading pool around them, but it wasn't fatal. Not unless elven anatomy was much different from dwarven. Gimli had broken off the arrow's head and pulled the rest of it out while Legolas shut his eyes and bit down on a piece of rolled up cloth but didn't utter a sound.

He didn't say anything as Gimli used his own shirt to bandage to wound hard enough to stop most of the bleeding either, not until it was all done. Then he slumped further down, breathing heavily.

"Thank you. Where are we?"

Gimli shook his head.

"A hideout of my people."

"Is it safe?"

"Orch wont find it, and if they do, they wont be able to enter."

Legolas eyes narrowed.

"Is it *safe*?"

Gimli knew he didn't mean the structure of the hideout, nor how it would be able to withstand enemy attacks but he really couldn't bring himself to answer. He opened and closed his mouth a few times and then awkwardly patted the elf's shoulder.

"It will be alright, lad."

"Lad." Legolas snorted but didn't pursue the issue. "I'm hundreds of years older than you." He took a deep breath and managed to get up on his functioning foot. With a hand on the wall, he jumped a few steps forward.

"You don't act like it. Sit down and rest!" Concerned, Gimli hurried after. Legolas put his hand on his once more naked shoulder and with the support managed a few more hops. The touch no longer filled him with dread, but even so he got goosebumps.

"I can't. We need to find another way out, then find my people and warn them of this new danger."

Yes, that was the honourable course of action, Gimli thought, but it was also preposterous. Legolas was hurt,he shouldn't be going anywhere. But the Elf was as stubborn as a Dwarf sometimes. Suddenly Legolas stopped and a concerned frown marred his face.

"Unless there is something here you'd rather keep secret? I am sorry to be trespassing into your peoples' hold like this, but my people....Perhaps you could blindfold me?"

"Never!" The word jumped out of his mouth so quickly and fiercely that Legolas just stared at him. Then he smiled, a small tentative smile.

"Very well then. I will swear to keep whatever I see or find here a secret for all -even from my King and father."

Gimli nodded.

"I accept you oath, prince." He said hoarsely.


	6. Chapter 6

Pride and dread warred within Gimli as they walked and hopped further into the underground dwelling. Legolas eyes were huge as he took in the smooth hallways, the ornate doors, the small, well equipped smithy and the larger room for meals and festivities. That room actually made him pause and look from crystal lamps to the hearth with its cut stone dragon. Even when not lit, the dragon statue glimmered with golden scales and black onyx eyes and there were wrought cups and silver plates on proud display in cupboards.

They paused there, sinking down on low, lovingly carved wooden benches, and Gimli brought some clear cold water from the cleverly cut vattenåder. Legolas accepted gratefully. He was white faced with pain but still looked around in awe.

"The world lost much beauty when your people hid from it." He said softly, shaking his head. He was leaning heavily on Gimli now, but it was no real burden.

"Aye, but we had to. Our work brought out too much greed." How could he explain to someone who was not an elf? The joy of dwarves were in the creation, not in the finished object. But all other people only coveted the objects for their monetary value, not the artistic beauty and skill that had gone into it. "Too many wars and bad blood over gold. We are better of without the world. The world is better off without us."

"I was not talking about the gold." Laying down on the bench, his hair fell over the bench like a waterfall of molten gold and for a few heartbeats all Gimli could think of was how he would never capture such marvel in metal when he came back home, how he could use the purest of precious gold and still fail to even resemble its beauty. He almost missed the elf's next words, too mesmerised by the sight. "Do you truly think so? Are you happier without the world?" He reached out to touch Gimli's hand but not like someone seeking support. More like a caress. "A diamond may sparkle in a cave but it needs the sun to truly shine."

Gimli swallowed. His heart was beating too fast.

"You are feverish and sick with pain." Perhaps even poisoned by that arrow, but Gimli couldn't bring himself to even think that. He couldn't stop looking at the elven hand touching his. "I think you need to stay here. Let me go ahead and find your people, and warn them. Then I can bring you to them."

Legolas shook his head.

"They will not listen to you. I need to go to them."

"You can't. Perhaps if you could write them a note...." but there were nothing to write on down here. Of all the emergencies this place was equipped for, correspondence had not been a pressing concern.

To his surprise, Legolas started laughing, a soft little sound. He grabbed Gimli's hand and pulled him closer.

"Come. I have an idea." He managed to sit up and pull the unresisting dwarf between his long legs, and Gimli's heart went from beating far too fast to almost stopping. He was too close, too close to that strong chest and that marvellous hair and those soft-looking lips....

Legolas hands started working through his hair and it took Gimli far too long to realize he was braiding it. Not a simple braiding either, something complicated and intricate. The rhythmic pull on his hair and slide of fingers over his scalp made his breath hitch. when he was done, legolas pulled out a few strands of his own hair and used it to tie the elaborate braids.

"Sorry. I have nothing else to use." Exhausted he sank back down on the bench but smiled up. "It looks good on you."

The golden hair in his own red shone like sunlight. they were so fine to the touch that they got stuck in his coarse fingertips, but strong enough to keep his wild lock tamed.

"What...is it?" He asked hoarsely.

"Royal engagement braids." Legolas chuckled. "They will have to listen to you now, as my fiancé you have some political power in Eryn Lasgalen."

"What?!"

"Temporary, temporary." Legolas smile fell as he saw Gimli's panic. "I will remove them when we are safe."

He could not stop fingering the braids. His scalp still felt tingly. If this was elven magic, he didn't think he could fight it anymore.

 

It tore his heart apart to leave his all but unconscious prince abandoned on a bench but he knew he had no choice. The wound had started to fester - his suspicion about poison had been correct. And none of the healing herbs in the storage room were fresh enough to make a difference. Legolas had begged him to find and warn his people, even if it meant abandoning him to what might be a slow, lonely and painful death and Gimli knew he must to it if he was to have a chance to save any of them. Muttering under his breath, he hoped those wood elf knew what a marvel of a prince they had.

He had found a cloak, but all shirts had rotted from the long wait in abandonment; this hideout hadn't seen use in over two hundred years, he guessed. His heart rose a little when he found the weapons though, and equipped himself with a decent axe and several smaller throwing axes. Those strange orchs were still out there.

Two of them were guarding the entrance he and Legolas had used, and his axes made short work of them. From the tracks he could see that others had spread out, most likely searching for other prey. He could only hope he would find the wood elves before they did.

 

Luck was with him, at long last. he found tracks from horses and hurried after them until he came across the wood elves just before sundown. Haldir seemed to be leading them now, but Gimli was too relieved to see them to care.

"Elves!" he shouted, hurrying after them as they stopped and turned, surprised. "I have grave news! There is...."

He didn't get any further, because suddenly he was close enough for them too see his braids.

"What have you done?!" Haldir gasped and Gimli suddenly realized what it looked like; him showing up out of nowhere, half naked and braided for a wedding. And with a bloody axe in his hand. "What have you done?!" Red faced with anger, he pulled his sword and charged.


	7. Chapter 7

The last time Haldir had attacked him, it had been to punish him for trying to escape. This time the pale elf meant to kill. Gimli swung his axe up and planted his feet as the long sword came down and even with the combined momentum of the horses charge and the elf's strength, he managed to block. From Haldir's perspective it must have been similar to strike your sword into a boulder; his arm all but lost all feeling and his balance marred. But the sword didn't break and the quickly swung the horse around. Gimli took a firmer grip on the axe.

"Cease this nonsense!" The command made them both look up - straight into the the drawn bows of seven wood elves. Their captain's face was almost as red as her hair. "Drop your weapons, both of you. Now!"

Legolas would never forgive him if he hurt one of his people. Slowly, with his eyes still on the marchwarden, Gimli obeyed.

"Good. Put him back in chains and we can..." Haldir started but the captain swung her bow at him.

"You as well, marchwarden."

"Captain Tauriel!" Offended and angry, Haldir urged the horse toward her and suddenly all but one bow were aimed at him. "This is preposterous! I am a march warden of Lothlorien and..."

"We are not in Lothlórien. And you are not my march warden. On the other hand no dwarf will command me either, no matter how royal his braids. There is something going on here and I intend to find out what but i cannot do that if you kill one another. Lay down your weapons, Haldir, or leave us now."

"Don't leave!" As much of an ass as he was, Gimli couldn't let him ride off alone. Not when those orchs were still out there. "There's an enormous raiding party of orchs out there. Huge orchs; biggest I have ever seen. They move in sunlight and attacked me and L...and the prince. He is hurt and sent me to warn you. The braids were so that you should listen to me, nothing more!"

"The prince is hurt? Where is he?!" Tauriel snapped around. "You must lead us to him, now. And you, Haldir, make up your mind."

Pride and ugly reluctance to throw away his chance for the future warred on Haldir's face. Finally he threw down his sword. Tauriel nodded, but it was impossible to say of she was pleased or not. Instead she gestured at the single unburdened horse at the edge of the circle.

"Arod came back alone and we feared the worst. You may ride him, so we can make better time."

 

Gimli had never ridden such a large animal; the ponies or war goats he was used to were all about half the size of this horse but Arod seemed embarrassed over his previous cowardice and stood patiently as the dwarf clambered up on his back, swaying and holding on to the reins as best as he could. Damn elves and their lack of saddles! But the captain was right and speed was of the essence.

"You should give me back my axe." he said gruffly as they set of. "Those orchs might still be out there."

Tauriel gave him a cold look but shook her head.

"We know these creatures you speak of. We met two hundred Men from Edoras half a day ago and they told us they had slaughtered the creatures and burned their corpses. They will increase their border patrols in the area and find out where the orcs came from."

"Glad to hear Men can be of some use." Gimli muttered and saw an almost-smile on the captain.

 

They had ridden for almost an hour and Gimli could almost see the hillock in the distance when Haldir rode up next to them. Tauriel gave him a wary glance but didn't order him back. The marchwarden had blotches of red on his cheeks and he was all but hissing with rage.

"Your lack of proper response to the situation will not go unnoticed, captain! Be assured i will notify your King about this!"

"And what situation would that be, marchwarden?" Tauriel said, not even turning around.

"Surely you cannot be so dimwitted as to not see what has happened here?! This...creature....shows up, showing all signs of the most depraved behaviour towards the Prince and your response is to let him lead us? It is a trap and we will all end up dead or in the hands of his people, subjected to the same horror!"

This time the captain did turn towards the other elf, and frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at him!" Haldir waved at Gimli. "His braids, his state of undress, the blood on his weapons! He has forced himself on the Prince, through violence or torture I have no doubt, and after sullied him beyond saving the Prince had no choice but to try to save whatever tatters of honour he had left by agreeing to marry the monster!"

Absolute silence fell over the cadre and all eyes were on Gimli he couldn't even form words. Haldir accused him of....to even presume he had laid an inappropriate finger on Legolas...the most horrifying of crimes.....He felt himself loose all colour in his face, his body started to shake and still not a word came out. How could you even begin to defend yourself against such accusations? This went beyond honour or pride and shook him to the core of his very being.

Even Tauriel seemed shook. Finally she managed:

"This will all be resolved once we find our Prince."

"I will take care of him, worry not. I will bring him back to Lothlorien with me and the Lady will help him heal, in time. Even if he is broken, I will still accept his hand in marriage and be patient with his recovery. Of course, the wedding price will be lower for such damage goods but I am sure the King will agree...."

Gimli's whole being went from cold shock to red rage in less than two heartbeats. Haldir thought Legolas had been tortured and forced into marriage and his first thought was how to turn such a horror into a favor for himself?! The insult and onslaught of Gimli's soul and honour he could bear, but this callus planning of Legolas' future was too much.

"Insolent son of a scum sucking orch!" With a roar he threw himself at Haldir, tumbling them both from the horses and finally *finally* landing some punches on that cold, smug face before two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him away with perhaps just a bit of reluctance. But whatever empathy the other wood elves had with him beating Haldir bloody, it only served to make their captain even angrier.

"Do I have to tie you both to the horses?! We have no time for your postering! The Prince may be dying!"

"He said.." Gimli started but Tauriel snapped back.

"I know what he said! And I will pass judgement on this situation once we find my Prince." Eyes as sharp and green as emeralds bored into his. Whatever reluctance she felt about Haldir, she obviously didn't trust him either. "And not a heartbeat before."


	8. Chapter 8

Once they got there, Gimli had no choice but to let the wood elves in to the hideout as well. He took one glance at the captain and decided that any argument would fall dead before the worry and anger in her eyes. He supposed he couldn't blame her; he was worried almost sick himself. But he drew the line at Haldir who had to wait outside with two guards as the rest followed Gimli inside. Why not, he thought wearied, after all he might as well get executed for showing six elves his people's secrets as one.

But it wasn't his own life he worried about when he rushed them down the hall. Night had fallen but the light of day still burned in the jewels decorating walls and ceiling and the wood elves were almost as keen eyed in darkness as dwarves. An unexpected noise made them all stop.

"What is that?" Someone said, nervously. Haldir's treacherous talk about an ambush had not fallen completely to deaf ears.

"It's...singing." Gimli said, in awe. And it was, clearly an elven song in that language Gimli didn't know, but the sheer beauty of it here in the halls of his people made his eyes tear up.

"It's Legolas! He is alive!" Tauriel pushed him aside and ran down the hall and as Gimli hurried after he realized this was the first time he'd heard her used his name. Whatever they thought of him or Haldir, these wood elves loved their prince.

 

They carried the barely conscious prince outside because Tauriel insisted he'd feel better under the stars. It sounded counter intuitive to Gimli to take someone outside to heal, but he was wise enough not to interfere. The wound looked bad; Legolas leg was swollen and angrily red with black streaks and absolute despair settled over Gimli at the sight. Pushing guards aside he ran up to Legolas side and fell to his knees, grabbing his hand and wetting it with tears. He had seen wounds festering like this before; at best it meant amputation of the limb and at worse....death.

"Gimli?" A dulled blue eye opened to look up at him and almost smile. "They...look good on you.." He reached out his free hand to touch the braids.

"Aye, aye that they do lad, and if you don't die I swear I will wear them forever, just don't die!"

"Take him away, I need space to work." Tauriel ordered but for once did not get her way; neither prince nor dwarf would let go of their grip and she finally relented, muttering. With Legolas dagger she cut the trouser leg from ankle to hip and Gimli's heart sank deeper when he saw the infection spread up to the thigh. If they had to amputate, it would be the whole leg. Surviving such an operation, out here in the dark with no proper tools....the chances were close to nil.

Gimli thought he could feel his heart breaking.

But Tauriel didn't sterilize the dagger with fire or spirit, and she didn't prepare bandages or tools for crude cauterization. She just put her hands on the damaged leg, lowered his head, and sang.

Gimli's first reaction was to fight her. What were she doing?! Every second counted! If the infection spread up above the hip there would be no saving Legolas life. But then he saw it, even in the pale moonlight; the ugly red streaks started to withdraw. At first he thought he was imagining things but no. Slowly the infection withdrew, down from the thigh, from the knee, collecting at the entry hole of the arrow. Black poison bubbled from the wound and out on the grass, hissing with malicious wrath but impotent. Tauriel's face was drawn with concentration and her voice tight with focus but whatever she was doing it was working. Legolas breath came easier, he blinked towards the stars and his grip on Gimli's hand became almost painful as he managed to sit up.

At last it was over and the wound wound clean and almost closed. A relieved cheer went up from the wood elves as their prince staggered to his feet, still holding Gimli's hand with one of his and giving Tauriel a grateful embrace with the other. The stoic captain looked almost tear-eyed with relief.

 

Legolas recovered quickly once the poison was drawn although he was still limping, giving Gimli an excuse to help him sit down by a small fire one of the other elves had built. There were lines of pain around his eyes and mouth but he still smiled as Gimli fussed over him. At the other end of the camp, Tauriel lay wrapped in her cloak, staring at the stars.

"Did she faint?" Gimli asked concerned. The captain may be testy but she had handled fair from what she knew and he couldn't help but worry about her. Worry about elves! What had his life become? But he couldn't help himself.

"She's sleeping. Healing takes a lot out of someone." Legolas accepted a goblet of wine and drank it all. Some of the pain eased from him.

"Her eyes are open!" Just when he thought he understood these damn elves they turned around and did something new and strange. It was fascinating and frightening but most of all it was very adventurous - everything his life cooped up in the mountains had not been.

Legolas just shrugged.

"Thank you for warning my people. And saving my life." They were still holding hands, Gimli realized. He didn't feel like letting go, though. Not ever.

"You did the same for me," he managed, gruffly.

"But to a very low price. Don't think I don't understand what it might cost you to reveal your people's secrets to us. I feel honoured to have had the privilege, even under such dire circumstances as this."

"This is nothing. A hole in the ground, a little hideout." Gimli sighed. "I wish....I wish I could show you my home. The great halls of Durin's folk. The beauty wrought from jewels that capture the light of sun and moon. How close you may feel to the world and it's creator in a place where living rock and subtle hands work together. The music made in halls that still echo of the notes of creation. The...."

"I think he would be more interested in the troves of gold and diamonds. He is Thranduil's son, after all." A cold voice cut through Gimli's dreaming.

"Haldir? What happened to you?" Legolas looked up in surprise at the pale, still swollen face above them. Gimli felt a sting of satisfaction at the sight even as his soul curled with dread. Who knew what the marchwarden might do now?

Haldir ignored the question and for once looked straight at Gimli, even though his words were obviously meant for Legolas.

"So this was your plan, precious Prince? Seduce the dwarf with empty promises -" he made a gesture at the braids still in Gimli's hair "-and lure him to empty the coffins of his people for you? How far our cousins in the wood have fallen, to whore out their own prince for money!"

Gimli's head spun. Haldir's words hit far too close to home for what his father had warned him off. This was the reason his people had been hunted and drawn into wars for millenia - their wealth, their gold, which everyone coveted. Had he let himself be fooled by nothing? Was this...thing, whatever it was he felt between them, nothing more than a rouse?

Too both of their surprises Legolas cast his head back and laughed, a wild, almost frightening sound that made every hair on Gimli's head try to stand up.

"You are a fool, Haldir, and like a fool you think everyone is like you. You know nothing of me and you are not interested in learning. You know nothing of love and so you try to buy what you think is second best; a warm body and status. And you know nothing of Gimli and what he risked merely by saving me."

Haldir recoiled as if someone had hit him, but he kept his eyes on Gimli.

"Money and gold. That is what he wants from you. That is what he cares about - be it to try in vain to protect the borders of his miserable little kingdom or to lay at the feet of his greedy father matters not. Someone like him could never love someone like you. You know it in your heart."

"You know nothing of his heart." There was a strange kind of threat in Legolas' voice and he squeezed Gimli's hand harder. "Or mine."

Gili looked up at the stars, far above them. The dizziness had passed; he felt more clear headed and stone certain than he'd ever had in his life. The truth was right there, in his heart. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of both elves.

"Legolas is right. You know nothing of hearts, marchwarden. And still I might have been more inclined to listen to your words if you had not accused me of rape and filth towards your Prince not two hours ago!"

"He...what?" Absolute hurt and shock made Legolas' pale but blood rushed back to his face dangerously fast. "He said what?!"

"It was an honest mistake!" Realizing he might have played with a bit too high stakes, Haldir started to back away. "Any one could have made it!"

"And yet you were the only one to reach such filthy conclusion," Gimli couldn't help but grinning at the elf's distress. "And I have heard no word of apology."

"No apology would be accepted!" Swaying a bit on his wounded leg, Legolas got up. "Such an accusation to my betrothed can only be solved by blood!"

 

There was a lethal, fey side to Legolas that Gimli hadn't expected and it shone through now when he stood defensively in front of him and he would lie if he said it didn't thrill him. This elf was as brave as any dwarf! And unfortunately as stubborn.

"Legolas, sit down before you hurt yourself. I am well capable of defending my own honour." Besides, the prince had been all but dying of his wounds not an hour ago and his leg was still dripping blood through the bandages. He might also, Gimli realized, be a little bit drunk from the way he was swaying.

Legolas' squeezed his shoulder.

"I know, but this is also an attack on Eryn Lasgalens' honour. To accuse a member of the royal family...."

"The braid's were only a trick!" Haldir protested. "He is not really your betrothed!"

"On my bethrodes' honour!" Legolas ignored him. "This can only be settled with blood, Haldir. I challenge you to a duel. You and me. Here and now. Choose your weapon. Or leave, honorless to report back to your Lord and Lady that you have single handedly destroyed all chances of trade and alliance with Eryn Lasgalen!"

*Not so wise and more dangerous,* that's what they said about these elves he had somehow been accepted amongst, weren't it? And for all that Gimli approved of all of it, this was really not the time or place.

"You are hurt, Kidhuzel. Sit down. This can wait for another day. Or let me finish what I started on his pretty face." Gimli tried, but Legolas just shook his head. Damn these stiff necked elves!

"One of my people insulted you, meleth. It is my responsibility to handle."

"I accept your challenge," Haldir quickly interrupted. "Here and now. I choose my sword."

Legolas nodded grimly. Now if he only had half a brain, he would choose his bow of course and Haldir would have no chance to even get near him, Gimli thought dizzy with panic.

"I choose my dagger."

"What have I married into?" Gimli groaned and pulled his hood over his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear gods i just realized that for most of last chapter Legolas wasn't wearing pants! Let's pretend someone gave him a new pair somewhere between then and now, can't have him fighting in his underwear. Do elves have underwear?

Legolas was not entirely steady as he hobbled into the fighting ring formed by his people. It was probably more because of blood loss and pain than the single glass of wine he'd drunk but it still made Gimli want to gnaw on his fingernails like he hadn't done since he was a child.

Haldir was also hurt, but nowhere near as bad. The swelling on his face from a few punches would barely slow him down and an evil part of Gimli kept wishing he'd stabbed the bastard when he'd had the chance. But no, you couldn't kill someone for simply being a bastard. It went against everything he believed and had been taught. The thought of seeing Legolas do so made his soul squirm uncomfortably - some elves had been turned into orchs, the whispers said. Did they all have such evil inside them? The thought made his heart sink - but the alternative was worse. If Haldir won....He couldn't even finish the thought.

Someone had woken up Tauriel, but she couldn't do nothing to stop her Prince. Although judging by the set of her mouth she was seriously contemplating tying them all to the horses and drag them all back to Eryn Lasgalen.

Legolas drew his dagger. It flickered and shone in the light of the fire, dancing between clever fingers. Haldir's eyes narrowed and he drew his own sword; at least three times longer than the dagger. Haldir would have the reach, Gimli thought with thundering heart, and the probably the strength to if you simply compared the span of their shoulders, and the mobility and the....His throat went dry when he realized he could think of no single aspect in which Legolas would have the upper hand in this fight. Strength of heart made little difference in combat.

Except perhaps that Haldir probably didn't want to kill the prince, while Legolas eyes burned with rage.

The two opponents faced each other until Tauriel simply said:

"Begin!"

And then all Hell broke loose.

Gimli had never seen anyone move like that. One heartbeat the elves were standing there, poised and ready and the next it was as if lightning had struck; two bright figures crashing together with an almost musically metallic sound of weapon against weapon.

Legolas' leg gave out first. He stumbled as his foot twisted and even Gimli could see the horror on Haldir's face as he instinctively lashed out with his sword towards the Prince's throat.

And suddenly Legolas' leg regained its strength and now Haldir was too close so the dagger could easily slide inside his guard. While the sword missed Legolas' neck with a hair's breadth, the white dagger slid up the marchwarden's hand, splattering blood on the grass and causing him to lose his sword.

"Blood is drawn!" Tauriel shouted quickly. "The fight belongs to Prince Legolas!"

A cheer went up through the assembled wood elves and Gimli pushed his way into the ring and threw his arms around legolas. He reached only about up to his chest, but it was good enough. Then he punched him in the sternum.

"Ow! What was that for?" Legolas couldn't really hide his smirk even though he was breathless.

"You know damn well what that was about, elf! I thought you'd kill each other!"

"No one said...."

"I'm starting to understand that one should pay as much attention to what elves DONT say as what they do say," Gimli tried to growl,but he was just too relieved. No one was dead. No one was a murderer. The elf was still as annoying and strange and wonderful as he was before, a wood elf sprite of honour and goodness and nothing more. Nothing evil.

"Where is Haldir?" He looked around but had to jump aside as a horse came out of nowhere and almost rode them down. The wood elves scattered like birds, shouting and possibly swearing in their own languages, but no one made any attempt to stop or call back the marchwarden as he fled into the night.

 

Apparently to the wood elves, Haldir's disappearance meant a party. Suddenly there was wine, song and dancing around a blazing fire. Gimli felt quite stunned of it all; his people held feasts, of course, but they were always for a reason - Midwinter night or Solstice or a successful raid against orchs. Never just like this, for not other reason than spontaneous zest of life. He sat with his his mug of wine and listened to them sign strange and beautiful songs he didn't understand but which resonated inside of him nonetheless, listened to the strange and wild music of their instruments and watched them dance. He'd never seen elves dance before. It was like watching thunder strike, wonderful and almost frightening all at once.

And no one danced better than the prince.

Whatever Tauriel had done to his leg, it had healed it far better than he'd let on. It had fooled Gimli and it must have fooled Haldir as well. Gimli couldn't find it in his heart to be angry at the elf for the rouse, he was far too happy to just be here, sharing the joy, when not two hours ago he didn't know if his amrâlimè would even live.

Amrâlimè. Aye, there was no denying it. Of all the dangers he thought he'd meet on the road....

"You do not dance, meleth?" legolas sat down next to him, smiling and lifting another cup to his mouth. He seemed determined to replace what blood he had lost with wine but he didn't seem very drunk. A little shine in his eyes, a deeper joy in his smile perhaps. Nothing more.

"Dwarves do not dance like this," he said haughtily, knowing the smile on his own face took the sting from the word. "We dance together in the great halls, or alone with our love. We do not wave our arms and legs around under the stars like this."

Legolas laughed.

"Perhaps a song, then?"

Gimli considered, then nodded. The wood elves calmed down somewhat when he rose up and cleared his throat and then turned to the Prince and started singing.

It was a song in khudzul; it was impossible than any of the elves understood it or what it meant. So he sang his heart out, sang of the love he had found, sang of gold far above the deep caves, sang of lightning striking his heart. Sang of Legolas, although of course the prince didn't know that.

Silence fell when the last word rang out under the stars and Gimli plopped down, feeling unacostomatley bashful. Every eye followed him and every eye saw Legolas take his hand again and it occurred to Gimli that elves were very good with words and languages and that although they did not understand every word than might have understood the gist of it. Legolas might have understood.

"That was beautiful," legolas sounded slightly out of breath. "I am honoured."

Around then the party started picking up pace again, but this time Gimli couldn't look away from his prince and his ears were buzzing. Legolas was smiling and Gimli realized that perhaps the joy and shine was not from the wine but....

Before he let himself overthink too much, he leaned forward and kissed him.


	10. Chapter 10

Two weeks later they reached the eves of Eryn Lasgalen. Even form the edges of the wood Gimli could see the decay of the trees and undergrowth and almost taste the evil presence that clung to the leaves. It made his heart ache to let Legolas enter such a forest, but of course he couldn't hold him from it. The woods needed their prince. And of course he had to go home to. Home to face what he had done and revealed to elves. If he was lucky, he might be banned from ever exiting the mountains again. If he was unlucky....

"Will you be alright?" Legolas looked at him worried as if he sensed his distress.

"Yes. No." Gimli sighed. "I fear this is the last time we see each other, my friend."

"Friend?" Playfully, legolas pulled his braid. "You still carry my braids, betrothed."

"Ay, I promised, didn't I?" Gimli grinned back. "Promised I would never remove them, so you just have to live with being betrothed to a dwarf. It's all your own fault anyway."

Legolas laughed, but the smile fell from his face.

"I have sworn my people to secrecy and i will only tell my father as few details as I can. But Haldir...."

Gimli shook his head.

"It's no use hiding it, Sanûrzud. I need to go home and tell my people I have revealed us to the world once more."

"How will they react?" When Gimli didn't answer, legolas eyes narrowed. "They won't harm you, will they?"

"I..don't know. Being a member of Durin's line might protect me but...."

"Durin's line? You never told me you were royalty!"

"A great nephew of the king at best," Gimli waved his hand. "What did you call it? A pauper Prince."

Legolas smiled but worry still shone in his eyes.

"Stay with me. Here, under the trees. We could use a warrior of your prowess here. And I..."

"And *you* would have to explain royal braids in a dwarf's hair to your father."

Legolas stood quiet.

"I don't' want to lose you, meleth." he said, very quietly.

Gimli took his hands between his own and sighed.

"I don't' want to lose you either, amrâlimè." He leaned forward, hesitantly and Legolas did the same. When their lips met Gili felt like it didn't matter where he was in the world or what happened. In that kiss, he was home.

And then he had to let go and turn away and start the long road home alone on heavy feet, the kiss still burning on his lips. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

 

 

“My King, there is a messenger come up the River from Long Lake,” Feren bowed respectfully and handed over a rolled up letter tied with blue ribbons to his King who was trying once more to get the morose Prince interested in the Kingdom daily business. Since he came back from his journey to Edoras the Prince had been thoughtful and worried and all of Mirkwood had noted the change in his behaviour. 

“The Lake Master with another request for more gold for our supplies, no doubt. Those Men will bleed us dry, ” Thranduil sighed and reached for the letter but his eyebrows shot up as he was handed a thick creamy white vellum sealed with golden sealing wax. 

Legolas looked up from his dark thoughts as his father turned the letter over; the letters were blocky and bold, very unlike the sloppy human writing.

“‘To King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, father and liege lord of’ - I do not know this word, it is neither Westron nor any elven I have ever seen - ‘Legolas Greenleaf.’ Do you know anything of this my son?”

Legolas could only stare at the letter, his heart beating like a wardrum. Too many things could be hidden in that innocent vellum. But that word before his name, surely it meant only one could have sent it and that he must be alive.

“Open it Ada, please.” He asked breathlessly.

Thranduil obliged, quickly skipping the opening hourables to get to the heart of the letter, Legolas reading over his shoulder.

When he had finished, Thranduil turned the letter over, to look at the golden sigil with its mountain and two axes stamped on it. He tapped the previously unknown word with a finger and said, rather faintly: 

“Though I do not know this word, I can guess its meaning now.” 

“Yes, ada.” Legolas realised he still sounded as breathless, but now it pure undaunted joy that stole his breath. It was the word Gimli had called him before they parted, and before that in his song. Amrâlimè. Beloved.

“And this...dwarf of Durins like, this Gimli son of Glóin from a people thought to be extinct...he wishes to court you?” Legolas had told his father of what had happened of course but only the bare bones of it and since he had sworn Tauriel and the others to secrecy there had been things Thranduil knew he was kept out of. He’d had his suspicions but this was far from it. 

“Yes, ada, he is a pauper prince but….” Legolas didn’t need to explain. Thranduil took one look at his son’s face and all the pieces fell into place. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he downed it and sighed.

“There is a tale here that I will *undoubtly* hear all about later.” The tone of his voice said it was an order and Legolas nodded but was interrupted by the steward who cleared his throat. 

“My King? My Prince? What will I tell the envoy waiting by the Great Doors?”

“They are here?! Now?!” Thranduil all but jumped out of his chair at the same time as his son exclaimed: 

“Gimli is here?!”

Thranduil managed to grab him by the back of his shirt before he rushed out and holding his struggling son in one hand smattered out a list of orders to the bewildered steward. 

“Farem, set out a new set of the Prince’s best clothing - the gold and green brocade - and see if you can dunk him in water long enough to wash the leaves from his hair. And freshen up his braids. And tell the kitchen we need refreshments for a courtship company. And get my throne ready. And my gold slingback. And - Legolas! You are staying here! Pauper prince or not I will not meet your courtier looking like some leftover backwaters king! - And ready the honour guard. And…”

An hour or so after they had been plied with refreshments the courtship envoy was led into the throneroom. There were twenty one of them, all stout and grim and dressed in heavy well made armor and although they had been made to leave weapons and helmets outside before entering there was something warlike over them. In the lead went a magnificanly dressed dwarf with fire-red beard, dressed in fine furs and with jewels glittering around his neck and on his fingers. Next to him, so similar in appearance that it left no doubt of their kinship, walked a younger dwarf in more homely clothes although the very elaborate braids in his hair and beard sent all of the Elven King’s halls buzzing. 

From the look on the elven prince’s face, he was the only one in the room. 

“I thought you said he was some far off kin to the King,” Thranduil whispered to his son when lamplight glittered on the envoys magnificant armour and jewels.  
Legolas could only shrug helplessly, his eyes still roaming over the youngest dwarf as if to make sure he still had all his fingers and toes intact. 

 

When they reached the throne, the dwarves bowed, rather stiffly and Thranduil greeted them politely but warily. After the pleasantries had been exchanged Thranduil adressed the olifant in the room:

“So what brings you to my halls, Glóin of Durin’s line?”

"It has been brought to my attention," Glóin stated rather pompously, "that while he was under the protection of Prince Legolas, my son has accumulated certain debts. Debts which we will now pay back, with your leave, King Thranduil."

"Absolutely not," Thranduil said offended to the core at the same time his son added:

"There is no debt between us!"

Glóin ignored them both and pulled out a list.

"First," He said, squinting at the paper. "One tiara."

"This is both ridiculous and an affront to the honour of all elves...." Thranduil started but quickly fell silent as another dwarf stepped forward, carrying a velvet pillow. On it laid a tiara - the most stunningly beautiful tiara Thranduil had seen since the days of Doriath. It appeared to made out of mythril and although set with no stones, it's sweeping shape and elegant lines made it look as precious as any crown of Kings.

"One pair of pincers." Gloin waved and a new dwarf stepped forward to open a large wooden case filled with all the tools setting up an entire workshop; all of them sturdy and yet elegant in their functionality and elongated to fit elven statues.

Thranduil was still at a loss of words, but he could almost feel the amusement radiating off his son and the dwarf called Gimli. He had a suspicious feeling he was being part of some elaborate joke, but he was too bewildered to do anything about it.

"Two pairs of shirts."

The first shirt was silver blue, with threads of silver in the cloth, as silky and shimmering as water. the other was a deep forest green with golden threads around the cuffs and neckline. Both were a suspiciously perfect fit for his son.

"And of course, payment for various food and drink and sundry."

A small chest, opened to reveal jewels of all colours spilling out of it.

Glóin made a great show of putting away his list and cleared his throat.

"I do believe this clears the debt between us."

Though it pained him to the core of his jewel-loving soul, Thranduil managed to croak.

"We will...not accept this. My son acted as honour dictated. There is no debt to be paid."

Glóin huffed himself up to almost twice his normal size and the dwarves behind him grumbled. Legolas and Gimli were still snickering. Thranduil felt completely out of his depth. he knew he was being manipulated into *something* but he couldn't for his life see what.

"Well, if that is the King of Eryn Lasgalens last word on this matter, then I suppose I have no choice but to change my offer. King Thranduil of the Woods, I hereby formally ask permission for my son to court your son. Please accept these gifts as a token of our esteem."

Thranduil gaped.Legolas and Gimli burst out laughing as he sank back to his throne, head in hand.

"....it seems i have little choice in this matter, do I? Very well. As you wish Glóin Gimli's father. We will accept your gifts and your...courtship. Now if you and your retinue could please follow me to the great hall and we could talk about your people's return to the world and how it will shake the politics as we know it. I am sure our sons will find some way of entertaining themselves in the meantime."

"Ada!" Legolas almost blushed.

"Oh please, after you put me through all of this?" Thranduil waved a hand at the assembled snickering dwarves and elves and then rose up. "Follow me, esteemed guests."

 

Finally left alone, the two lovers fell in each others arms and for quite some time there was no coherent sounds coming from either of them. When they came up for air, both of them started laughing. 

“You told me you were a pauper prince! What’s all this?” Legolas waved at the treasures he’d been brought. 

“More like a distant nephew to the King, but my father has a way with money that I will never have. We’re not that bad off, I suppose.” Gimli’s eyes glittered with mirth. 

“And the armed guards? Are you people ready to step back into the world then? Because not even someone as willfully blind as the Lake Master could have missed twenty dwarves stomping through his lands:”

“Aye, when I told my people what had happened,” Gimli took a deep breath, “there was much uproar. Some called for my head, I don’t deny it. But most….most took it as a sign. A sign that there is still some good in the world and that we deny ourselves too much when we keep hidden. After all, what use is treasure if it’s kept behind lock and key, to never see the sun?”

“Your people are the greatest treasure themselves,” Legolas said in a low voice. “I am glad beyond words to see you back in sun again.”

“And your father?”

“Oh, he’ll be glad to, once he gets over the shock I think. But in all honesty I think your people’s armour did more to convince him than the jewels. He is probably negotiating trade arrangements and alliances as we speak.”

“Both our people are taking this a lot better than I could ever hope,” Gimli mused, arms still around the elf. 

“I think they were all just waiting - hoping - for something to break the stalemate. There will be those for whom everything that is now happening is an abominations. But most will see hope for the future in it.”

“I hope so.” Pulling him down, Gimli placed another smoldering kiss on his lips and they stopped talking again. 

 

From a corner of the Great Hall, Thranduil and Glóin watched.

“Well,” Thranduil stated with a sigh. “At least it’s not a Noldori.”

“Malah be thanked for that,” Glóin agreed. 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Was. Supposed. To. Be. A. Three. Chaptered. Fic. At the most! Bloody thing grew our of all proportions!
> 
> Also I like when elves recieve dwarven gifts. I just do :)


End file.
